’Long, long, I hope, to continue so, if Heaven grants my daily and nightly prayers, and my Lady Dashfort’s also.  So, Mr. Reynolds, if the ladies’ prayers are of any avail, you ought to be purely, and I suppose ladies’ prayers have the precedency in efficacy.  But it was not of prayers and deathbed affairs I came commissioned to treat—­not of burials, which Heaven above forbid, but of weddings my diplomacy was to speak; and to premise my Lady Dashfort would have come herself in her carriage, but is hurried out of her senses, and my Lady Isabel could not in proper modesty; so they sent me as their double to hope you, my dear Mr. Reynolds, who is one of the family relations, will honour the wedding with your presence.’

‘It would be no honour, and they know that as well as I do,’ said the intractable Mr. Reynolds.  ’It will be no advantage, either; but that they do not know as well as I do.  Mrs. Petito, to save you and your lady all trouble about me in future, please to let my Lady Dashfort know that I have just received and read the certificate of my son Captain Reynolds’s marriage with Miss St. Omar.  I have acknowledged the marriage.  Better late than never; and to-morrow morning, God willing, shall set out with this young nobleman for Buxton, where I hope to see, and intend publicly to acknowledge, my grand-daughter—­provided she will acknowledge me.’

‘CRIMINI!’ exclaimed Mrs. Petito, ’what new turns are here!  Well, sir, I shall tell my lady of the METAMORPHOSES that have taken place, though by what magic (as I have not the honour to deal in the black art) I can’t guess.  But, since it seems annoying and inopportune, I shall take my finale, and shall thus have a verbal P.P.C.—­as you are leaving town, it seems, for Buxton so early in the morning.  My Lord Colambre, if I see rightly into a millstone, as I hope and believe I do on the present occasion, I have to congratulate your lordship (haven’t I?) upon something like a succession, or a windfall, in this DENEWMENT.  And I beg you’ll make my humble respects acceptable to the ci-devant Miss Grace Nugent that was; and I won’t DERROGATE her by any other name in the interregnum, as I am persuaded it will only be a temporary name, scarce worth assuming, except for the honour of the public adoption; and that will, I’m confident, be soon exchanged for a viscount’s title, or I have no sagacity nor sympathy.  I hope I don’t (pray don’t let me) put you to the blush, my lord.’

Lord Colambre would not have let her, if he could have helped it.

’Count O’Halloran, your most obedient!  I had the honour of meeting you at Killpatrickstown,’ said Mrs. Petito, backing to the door, and twitching her shawl.  She stumbled, nearly fell down, over the large dog—­caught by the door, and recovered herself.  Hannibal rose and shook his ears.  ‘Poor fellow! you are of my acquaintance too.’  She would have stroked his head; but Hannibal walked off indignant, and so did she.